


The Presidential Deal of 2016

by FiftyShadesOfFandom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 14x20, Crack Fic, Crowley (SPN) - Freeform, Crowley is scared, Daddy Kink, Episode: s14e20 Moriah, I regret this, Im scared, M/M, SPN - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Supernatural 14x20, Trump, Vomit kink, crowley - Freeform, donald Trump has a Daddy kink, donald Trump has a vomit kink, donald trump - Freeform, im ashamed, im so sorry, oof, spn 14x20, this is terrifying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2020-10-18 20:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20645429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiftyShadesOfFandom/pseuds/FiftyShadesOfFandom
Summary: -In the SPN episode 14x20 Episode, it’s mentioned that Trump made a deal with Crowley-It’s the night before the election of 2016. Donald J Trump stands at a crossroads with a box in his hands. He has to become president. He has to make America great again. It doesn’t matter the costs. Even if he has to kiss a demon.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> -Inspired by SPN episode 14x20-

Donald J Trump stood in the center of a crossroads, a small box in his hands. He had heard a rumor that he could summon a demon and make a deal. He knew he had fucked up during the election season, but he had to be president. He had to make America great again. And the only way to do that right now was to ask a demon.   
He didn’t even hesitate, immediately burying the box in the ground. He stood up straight, brushing the dirt off of his hands as he did.  
“Alright, demon. I’m a busy man, and time is money. So, hurry up!” he called out into the night, crossing his arms impatiently.   
“Hello, darling,” a British accent spoke. Trump spun around to see who was speaking. It was a short man in a black suit.   
“Are you the demon?” Trump asked. “You don’t seem very intimidating.”  
The demon frowned slightly, his eyes flashing completely red. “Care to say that again?”  
“Are you threatening me? I’ll let you know that I’m the future president; I will nuke Hell!” Donald threatened, glaring at the demon harshly. “Who are you anyways?”  
”The name’s Crowley, King of the Crossroads. I understand you want to make a deal. So, have at it.”  
”I want to be president of the United States.”  
Crowley sighed. “Of course you do. Here’s my offer: I’ll ensure you become president, but in ten years, my hellhounds will come to collect your soul and drag you into Hell for all eternity.”  
Trump nodded. “Sounds good. Great deal. Where do I sign?”   
The demon hesitated slightly before answering. “Demon deals aren’t sealed with contracts.”  
”That’s ridiculous. What’re they sealed with?”  
”A kiss.”  
“A kiss?”  
“You heard me, President,” Crowley responded with a wink.   
Trump frowned. “I’m not a homo!” he said loudly, crossing his arms.   
“Well, I am. So, either pucker up or forget your little dream of being president,” the demon said calmly, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke.   
“Fine!” Donald said, blushing a deep orange as he shifted closer to Crowley.   
“Well, go on,” Crowley encouraged teasingly with a smirk.   
Trump hesitated before stiffly pressing his lips to Crowley’s. The demon kissed back hard. Not because he liked the man. In fact he despised him. Which is exactly why he was kissing him. Because kissing homophobes was really fucking funny.   
Several moments passed and Trump hadn’t pulled away. Now Crowley was confused. He stepped away, not wanting to kiss the oompa loompa for any longer.   
Donald grabbed Crowley by the waist roughly, kissing him again - with tongue - and grinding his hips against him.   
Crowley forced Trump back and turned around, promptly vomiting into a nearby bush.   
“What the bloody fuck was that?” Crowley exclaimed between spits of puke.   
“Let’s get a room,” Trump said eagerly, clearly unable to take a hint.   
Crowley threw up again - even the mere thought of spending the night with the orange man revolting him.   
“Vomit is such a turn on!” Donald exclaimed. “Puke on me, Daddy! Please!”  
Crowley had never been more terrified in his entire life. He was practically frozen in fear.   
“So excited you can’t speak, huh? Yeah. I am pretty sexy,” Trump boasted, displaying his planet sized ego.   
Crowley blinked a few times before just teleporting back into Hell. As he thought of the events that had just occurred, he turned and threw up again onto the nearest demon.   
“What the hell!” the demon screamed in disgust.   
“I just kissed Donald J Trump,” Crowley coughed out, voice hoarse.   
The demon nodded, a look of understanding on their face. “What did he want?”  
“Oh shit,” Crowley said lowly, remembering the deal. “America’s fucked.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was recently inspired by a few friends to write a second part to this. So, here it is!

It had been four years since Crowley had locked lips with one Donald Trump, and he had regretted it everyday since. Technically speaking, the current president had six more years to live until Crowley’s hellhounds took him. But the crossroad demons had come to an agreement. Just this one time, they would make an exception; this man was making things so bad that even the demons hated him. So, there Crowley stood on the doorstep of the White House, ready to collect the orange man’s soul.   
He glanced up at the numerous windows, reaching out to locate the soul that was to soon become his property. He snapped his fingers, landing in a large bedroom.   
He threw up in his mouth a bit at the sight in front of him - Donald Trump completely undressed, winking at himself as he stared into a full body length mirror.   
Crowley awkwardly cleared his throat as to announce his presence.   
Trump turned around with a glare, gaze softening when he saw who had made the sound. “Oh, it’s you! I knew you’d change your mind about a night with me! Let’s do it! Let’s do it right now! Top me, Daddy, please!”  
Crowley blinked a few times, grimacing as he saw the orange shrimp of a dick attached to the president. “Absolutely not. I’m here to collect your soul for Hell.”  
Trump frowned. “No. You said ten years. It’s only be four.”  
“I didn’t know you knew how to count. Besides, it’s felt like ten years,” the demon growled back. “Now put on some pants so you have some dignity while my hellhounds tear you to shreds.”  
“I’ll go easily...if you give me another kiss,” Donald said, desperation in his voice.   
Crowley rolled his eyes. “Absolutely not. You’re going to Hell wether you like it or not, and you are never getting off the rack. Even if you agree to torture other souls, you will stay on the rack. Every demon in Hell has been itching for a chance to torture you. Now put some bloody pants on!”  
“No. I don’t think I will. I want the demons to see me in all my glory!” Trump exclaimed.   
Crowley scoffed. “Have it your way...Sic ‘em, boys!” he commanded to the large invisible hellhounds by his side. He watched with a slight smirk as the hellhounds tore the man to shreds.   
“That’s what you get for stealing my slogan,” Crowley muttered to the corpse, watching as Trump’s soul descended into Hell.   
“Making Hell Great Again was my thing, bloody bastard.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m ashamed, but I’m not sorry.


End file.
